


Hymn of the Proven

by rusting_roses



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: 2011 ficathon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusting_roses/pseuds/rusting_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, proving yourself is the last thing you want to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hymn of the Proven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daern](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=daern).



_Proven Responsible_

Carlos patiently held still as his mama kissed both his cheeks, paused, and then kissed his forehead for good measure. "Now," she said absently, taking a step back and pulling on a light jacket from the hall closet. Someone touched Carlos' leg. It was the youngest of his four siblings, Adelita, who grasped his jeans. The toddler looked on the verge of tears, staring up at their mama. Carlos sighed a little, but picked Addy up and propped his younger sister on his hip. She buried her head against his shoulder and his shirt grew damp a moment later. Addy hated seeing their mama go off to work.

"Now," his mama repeated in the tone one uses when one has said something a million times already and will say it a million more if necessary, "Tio Edmundo is right down the street and you know you can call him or go over any time. He leaves for the restaurant at two, though." She finished buttoning the jacket and turned to face him. At seeing Addy in his arms, she sighed and shook her head before re-directing her attention to her eldest child.

Carlos adjusted Addy's weight, lifting her up to sit higher on Carlos' hip. "I know, Mama," he couldn't help saying in a bored tone. "I've been doing this since school ended. What time will Popi be back?"

"He should be back around three. So you know--"

"No cooking on the stove or in the oven until Popi gets back, don't leave dishes in the sink, no playing with anything that could be broken or could break something in the house. If anything goes wrong, call 911 and then you and Popi. Make sure the laundry gets finished—" Carlos cut himself off when he saw that his mama was laughing at him. He scowled at her.

His mama just grinned at him, unphased. She pulled Carlos and Addy towards her, kissing them yet again. "What are you doing up?" she asked softly of her daughter, kneeling to meet her eyes. Addy just sniffled and hugged her, still firmly held in Carlos' arms and planted her own messy kiss on her mama's cheek. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'll be back by five today. You should go back to bed for a little while."

She stood then, brushing off her knees. "Alright, I really must be going," Carlos' mama finally said firmly. "I don't want to be late." Her purse was slung over one arm, her feet tucking inside her most comfortable black flats. She opened the door and paused on the threshold, looking back at Carlos.

"You've become such a responsible young man," his mama told him proudly, the morning sun bronzing her already dark features. "Always looking after your siblings and cousins. I love you." She flashed that bright grin again, winked and added, "And you, Addy, and Elisa and Nicolao and your Popi and Tios Edmundo and Raúl and—"

Groaning and laughing despite himself, Carlos pushed his mama out the door.

~*~

 _Proven Kind_

"Oh, Charity!" Mrs. Bryant greeted with a smile. "How are you doing?"

"Wonderful. Little Harry is finally teething, though I'm afraid he's not as happy about it as we are," she answered. "And you?"

They talked for a few moments more, Molly only vaguely paying attention. She was debating the best costume to have for Halloween, which was going to be in a few weeks. Anna tended towards things like fairy queens and Disney princesses, while Molly much preferred being able to dress up as a knight, like her dad or a wizard, like Harry. Those jobs were real, and interesting. Well, her dad wasn't officially a knight, or anything, but Harry was totally in the phone book. He'd shown her the ad and everything.

"Molly, sweetie, your mom's here," Mrs. Bryant finally said, getting Molly's attention.

Molly didn't say that she already knew, seeing as how the kitchen table that she and the other girls were crowded around was maybe ten feet from the door and Mrs. Bryant and her mom had been talking for at least five minutes, mostly because her mom would kill her in the car. Instead, she grabbed her backpack, promised to give Anna call about the movies and joined her mom. They said their goodbyes and Molly slung her belongings onto the floor of the front seat before climbing inside and buckling herself in. For once, the little Jawas were nowhere to be found.

"Your father got home early," her mom said in explanation, gifting her with a brief smile. Molly's face lit up; her dad had been gone for three weeks this time, and it was long enough that Molly had ended up letting Amanda and Hope sleep with her in her room. Rarely did her dad leave for so long, and a safe return was reason enough to celebrate. No wonder the other kids refused to come along; Molly was already shifting in her seat with eagerness to get home. "Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

That had Molly freezing as she tried to think over the events of the last week or so. She didn't think she'd done anything to merit punishment—at least not this time. She swallowed, and tried to affect being causal, all thoughts of her dad pushed aside for now. "Y-yeah?" She cleared her throat. "What's up?"

They stopped at a red light, and her mom's eyes slid to her for a moment before returning to the road. "Mrs. Bryant told me what you did, you know."

That had Molly frowning in bemusement. "Okay?" She tried raising a brow like Harry—not her brother Harry, but the Harry who was an _amazing_ wizard with _real_ magic who had also shown her and her sibling a few basic magic tricks that even they could do, which was just _awesome_ —but she was still too nervous.

Her mom reached out, gently brushing the blond hair out of Molly's face. "You were very good today at the shelter, I heard." Molly blinked, unsure what to say. Her mom's face softened. "Doing charitable work isn't often about things being 'nice' or 'clean' or 'easy'. People don't always like to admit how lucky they are in the first place, to have the life they lead. Reading your book to those kids, and then giving it to them was very kind of you, Molly."

Molly flushed all over, staring at her shoes. "It's not a big deal," she protested. "I'd finished it already, and besides, none of them read it before." She sniffed. "Everyone should read Tamora Pierce. I was just..." she sniffed imperiously, "enlightening them."

Her mom's mouth twitched a little, but she didn't quite grin. She probably thought it was undignified, or something like that. Instead, her mom just pressed a kiss to Molly's forehead. "Ugh, Mom! I'm not two anymore. Save it for Hope and Harry." She got out of the car then, running for the front door when she saw her dad waiting for them.

Her dad swept her up into a hug, lifting her into the air. "I missed you, Daddy," she whispered into his shoulder, and all other thoughts fled at the way her made her feel safe. What she'd done earlier didn't matter, not here, not now.

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

~*~

 _Proven Brave_

"So I hear that you were stupid enough to request working with the Council's black sheep."

As usual with wizards, the phone connection sounded faintly tinny and broken, but the wryness in Dresden's voice was enough that a laugh was startled out of Carlos. "Most people start their conversations with, 'hello'," he returned lightly.

Dresden snorted, "Politeness is for people with too much time on their hands. I tried it once."

"But only once?" Carlos finished for him.

Dresden had a good laugh, solid and full. It burst out of him with unexpected brightness and made Carlos laugh in return. "Yeah, only once. I only tried it in the first place because I thought I had my foot-in-mouth syndrome under control, but you know how these things are. It made an abrupt return, and well, politeness was the first thing out the window." He sighed gustily. "I haven't made much of an effort controlling my mouth since. I find it's easier just to go with the flow."

"Now I understand why the Senior Council finds you such a joy to be around," Carlos retorted. "With all your natural verbal tact, you must be an absolute master at telling them everything they want to hear."

Another laugh, this time more sardonic. "Harry Dresden, people pleaser." Dresden was silent for a moment, almost contemplative. "They won't thank you for this, you know," Dresden murmured moments later. The poor connection sparked and crackled, and if Dresden put a particular emphasis on what he was saying, it was completely lost.

Carlos sighed. "You don't become a warden of the White Council because you think you're going to get thanked," he reprimanded. "Not that I didn't appreciate the dinosaur ride; I can scratch one more thing off of, 'Things to Do Before I Die' and all, but I didn't do it for the Council, or for Morgan or hell, even for Captain Luccio, and I sure as hell didn't do it for you." The words came out harder than he meant to, crisp and clean.

The silence on the other end was so long that Carlos half-expected that they'd gotten disconnected somewhere along the line. The line fizzed faintly and made a few popping sounds. Carlos smacked the receiver gently, trying to get the technology to clear itself up. It buzzed at him for a moment, almost long enough for him to miss when Dresden finally spoke.

"You're brave, kid," Dresden remarked softly, almost too softly for Carlos to hear it. Then his voice was back to strictly business. "Well, you're the only person in the Wardens who would be willing to work with me without double checking my every move for the hidden knife, so I'll take what I can get."

"Thanks, Dresden. Glad to know that my stellar good looks, incredible personality and good humor aren't enough for you."

"Bye, Carlos," Dresden murmured, fond grin clear in his voice. "It's going to be interesting working with you." Without waiting for Carlos to answer, he hung up.

Carlos stared at his phone for a long time before setting the handset down in its cradle.

~*~

 _Proven Loyal_

Sandra nodded, sandwich completely forgotten as she gesture. "I know, right? I thought it was fascinating. We philosophize on the morality of assisted suicide and have sent machines to other planets, yet something as simple as fear can still completely bypass all of that and get wired right into our hindbrain." She shook her head in amazement. When her companion remained silent, she poked the younger woman gently in the side.

"That is interesting," Molly replied dutifully. When Sandra gave her a look, Molly made a face. Then that expression too dropped, and she stared at her lap with dark eyes, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Sorry, Sandra, I promise it is interesting, but..."

Sandra bit her lip, but reached out and smoothed a hand across Molly's hair. "Nelson and Rosie?" she inquired sympathetically.

Molly's attempt at a smile wavered and then fell apart completely. She hated the knowing sympathy in Sandra's eyes, in the eyes of everyone who knew about Rosie's pregnancy when they looked at Molly. She wasn't going to fall apart just because her wretch of a boyfriend—ex-boyfriend now, really, because _how dare he, the fucking asshole_ —knocked up one of her best friends while they were both high.

She let out a little sigh, and hated the way her mother's voice, snide with superiority, murmured, " _Bitterness doesn't suit you_ ," in the back of her mind. She wasn't bitter, as such. It was more of a throbbing ache of disappointment that made it hard to look at the pair of them. It wasn't as though she hadn't suspected what was happening. Molly had known about the drugs months ago, even before Rosie had been pregnant the first time. She'd tried absolutely everything, from articles on crack-babies to physically trying to keep Rosie under tabs and away from the drugs. Rosie—and Nelson—had just drawn further away when she'd done that until Molly had given up entirely and simply tried to be a silent support without forcing their hand.

It was either that, or lock them up in a hospital ward, and Molly didn't think they'd forgive her for that.

 _Why don't they understand?_ a part of Molly railed, furious at the possibility that Nelson, that Rosie, that _Rosie's child_ would be wrecked further by what they were doing. She cared for Rosie and cared for Nelson still even if she wasn't in love with him, and she already cared for the small, delicate life that didn't deserve to die because Rosie couldn't stay off of heroin for more than a few days. _It's like they can't even muster up the energy to be afraid for what they're doing to their child, if not for themselves—_

Molly stopped.

"—such a loyal friend," Sandra was saying, but the words seemed to come from a long, long way off. Molly nodded vaguely in an acknowledgement, but the possibility of what she might be able to do unfolded in front of her. "I don't know if I could do what you're doing, I really—Molly?" Sandra interrupted herself, blinking at Molly's expression.

Molly treated Sandra to a blinding smile. "No offense, but this is sort of the last thing I want to talk about right now," she confided lightly. Sandra's expression was caught somewhere between embarrassment, anxiety and sympathy.

"Of course, Molly. I'm sorry." Sandra gave her a warm, tight hug that reminded her of nothing so much as the hugs her dad used to treat her to. Molly's irritation with her friend faded completely, and she returned the gesture. Sandra had probably been a God-send, dragging her into Splattercon!!! and keeping Molly busy with something real, something that was meaningful to her. Molly looked at the pamphlets on the table in front of her, listing all of the amazing panels that she'd helped Sandra pull together.

She'd helped Sandra, and she could help Rosie and Nelson, too.

"So what was it you were saying about fear?"

~*~

 _Proven Helpful_

Carlos didn't yell at Harry when the other man finally got around to telling him the whole story. He'd gotten the main parts from Harry's efforts to get clemency for Molly during that ridiculous White Council meeting, but there was a difference between hearing the story Harry had spun for effect—never lying, since that would mean Harry would be as good as dead, but emphasizing the parts that showed Molly wasn't going to be a warlock running around with the secrets of the White Council—and hearing the untouched truth.

Harry stared at Carlos when he was finished, that dark gaze of his intense. "I never said thank you," Harry announced a long while later, when they'd gone through another two beers each. Carlos felt they were much needed beers, in part because he suspected Mac was some sort of ale-brewing god from Norse mythology or something, but mostly because he hadn't known what to say in response to what Molly had actually done. Mind magic—untrained and dangerous, yet she'd still managed to do what she wanted with almost medical precision, from when Carlos had forced himself to gaze upon her victims with the Sight. Not a drop of magic wasted, the results quite literally frighteningly clinical.

Carlos blinked at him in confusion. "What?" he asked after taking a long pull of his beer, as though that would dispel the image of Molly's dark mark left on those she'd tried to help.

"Thank you," Harry repeated steadily. "Looking at the," he swallowed a little, eyes doing even darker and impossibly sad, "victims, acting as the warden in charge of security, all of it. You were a huge help. I needed someone I could rely on, someone I could trust not to fuck things up just because it was me and I was bringing in a warlock for trial instead of execution."

Carlos hadn't even considered that; if he hadn't followed protocol to the letter, if he'd done a single thing wrong, it could have potentially destroyed any chance of Molly leaving that warehouse with her heart still beating. The White Council took the news of warlocks incredibly seriously and from the display the Merlin had made, he'd been simply looking for an excuse to screw Harry over. Taking out a potential threat just would have been the icing on the cake.

Carlos let out a low, shuddering breath. "Shit, man."

Harry's mouth quirked, his eyes level. "Tell me about it."

"I'd do it again," Carlos told his beer, and then forced himself to meet Harry's gaze. "You're my friend, Harry. I trust you. I'd do it again."

Harry let the moment hang in the air with the heaviness the admission deserved, and then grinned, a flash of white teeth. "And that's why you're my favorite," Harry quipped.

~*~

 _Proven Watchful_

Molly knew—she absolutely knew—that she couldn't have gone in to help Harry and Carlos. He hadn't told her the whole plan, but Molly was practiced enough by this time to read between the lines: whatever Harry was planning on doing, it was dangerous, had a low chance of success and probably most importantly, Harry didn't want Molly could get more mixed up in this than she already was.

Bitterness seeped into her for a moment. She'd seen the way her mom would sit at home, worrying over her dad when he was on his missions. She'd seen the pinched mouth, the way each time her mom's temper would fray that much more easily. She'd seen the stress eat away at her and the way her mom would lash out, frightened for everyone around her. Her mom was stronger, stronger than most people Molly knew, but Molly could never be Charity Carpenter.

Molly couldn't just wait for those she loved to return.

Maybe that made her a coward; better that she face danger head on and actually _face it_ , rather than waiting for it to come to her.

Molly would always pick being predator over prey.

If she had been strong enough, maybe Harry would have let her back him up when he went into the Wraith household without even Mouse to guard him. If she had been strong enough, Carlos wouldn't have been hurt, wouldn't by lying in this cold, pale hospital room. Carlos' breathing was unsteady, his face wan and lined with pain. She wasn't family, so she didn't know all of the official details, but she'd seen her mom patch her dad up more than once. She knew what kind of wounds were immediately dangerous or would be worrisome long-term.

Molly grabbed his hand, clutching it tight. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, breath catching a little. She didn't want people to be hurt, she wanted to _protect_ them, no matter how capable they were. Her dad never told her the whole story, but the people Michael Carpenter looked to as a hero were few and far between. Molly wanted to protect and help Harry and Carlos the same way she wanted to protect and help her family or—it seemed like a lifetime ago sometimes, and sometimes it seemed like it was only yesterday—Rosie, Nelson and Rosie's unborn child, a lifetime and a half ago.

"Seems to me," Rawlins drawled, "that a boy like that is lucky to have someone like you to watch over him." Molly looked up, startled, and Rawlins gave her an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, visiting hours are over. I gotta ask you to leave, Miss Carpenter."

Rawlins was one of the few people that could call Molly, 'Miss Carpenter' without it sounding condescending. Well, at least not all the time. "Oh. Uh, right, of course." She stood, dropping Carlos' hand back onto the bed. She backed away from the bed, tugging at the bottom of her shirt. "Sorry, I'll just. You know. Be going." Keeping her head down, Molly slid past Rawlins, stopping only long enough to flash him a little smile.

It was time for her to get back to Harry's anyways.

~*~

 _Proven Gentle_

Carlos watched as Harry passed him by, keeping silent and steady beneath his veils instead of greeting his friend. When Luccio had called for reinforcements, Carlos had been one of the first to volunteer, ready and eager to come to Harry's aid for whatever was needed. Even if by the time they'd gotten there, all they'd actually had to guard over was the Archive and some of those who had aided her; in his long years of service, Carlos had come to learn the value of knowing that the problem was in good hands and that he could rest safely. It was something that Harry and the Archive would appreciate knowing, even if Carlos cursed the fact they hadn't been able to make it sooner.

Carlos kept his fingers on his sword and his attention on his surroundings as the long hours of the night crept into the early morning. It was freezing cold, and by the fourth hour of their watch, Carlos was half-convinced that he would be a human-shaped icicle by the time all was said and done. He had been born and raised in or near Los Angeles and was accustomed to far more pleasant weather than this.

Chandler came out just was Carlos really was fearing frostbite, Linda at his side. They took up the relief posts and Carlos gratefully dropped his veil. Stepping to the doorway, he was met by an exhausted Karrin Murphy. With a tired smile for Carlos and Mei, the warden he'd been on guard with, Murphy offered them a sewing pin. Silently, both of them took it and pricked their fingers, squeezing out a drop of blood before Murphy permitted them entrance. With the Archive still recovering, no one was taking any chances.

"Something hot?" Murphy asked, staring at the pair of them. The shadows painted an unexpected softness in the corners of her mouth and eyes.

"Coffee, if you've got it," Mei responded, blowing on her fingers before rubbing at her arms in an attempt to chase off the chill. "I was not meant for this sort of weather."

"Who is?" Murphy asked, only a little sardonically, and led the way into the small kitchen. There was a fresh pot brewing, and the smell was absolutely heavenly. Carlos inhaled deeply, closing his eyes at the fresh scent.

"Where's Harry?" Carlos asked, settling in at the table. He rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion pulling at him. He'd been awake for the better part of a day and a half now, between finishing up his own work and coming out to Chicago in an effort to help Luccio sort out the latest mess Harry had gotten himself into. The thought made the corner of Carlos' mouth twitch despite himself. Harry had a talent for turning situations into disasters that somehow ended all the better for his interference. Well, so Carlos thought. The Senior Council wasn't usually so forgiving.

"Upstairs," Murphy replied shortly. She filled set cream and sugar next to Carlos along with his cup and did the same for Mei. "Ivy just woke up from a nightmare."

Mei inhaled sympathetically, and Carlos winced. "She alright?"

Murphy didn't meet his eyes. "Harry and Kincaid are handling it."

That was a no if Carlos had ever heard it. "Mind if I use your kitchen for a minute?"

Murphy stared at him hard for a second or two, and then sighed. "Have at it. What do you need?"

Carlos' mouth twisted up into what would have been a smile if he was less weary. "Milk and chocolate."

Murphy let out a little laugh, and stood, giving Carlos a saucepan and shooing him over to the stove while she got out what he needed. Ten minutes later, Carlos was the proud owner of a mug of hot chocolate, complete with mini-marshmallows. He'd tried to protest their inclusion, considering they were rather more like rocks than actual marshmallows—unsurprising, since Murphy hadn't even known they'd been buried at the back of her pantry—but Murphy had insisted. "Marshmallows are a _must_."

Carlos knew well enough to give in with grace. Before he left the kitchen, Murphy rested a hand on his arm. He could feel the strength in it, and could see it in those blue eyes. At least one person would come out in one piece from the battle with the Denarians. "Be gentle," she cautioned.

He flashed her a grin. "I always am," he assured Murphy.

Though her stubborn chin didn't relent, her eyes warmed. "I know you are. No go on. I'm sure Ivy could use something warm right about now."

~*~

 _Proven Wise_

The Leanansidhe came to Molly's aid in a matter of days.

Lea, as Harry had called her, was as unable to cross the threshold of Molly's house as all the creatures of the Nevernever were. When she'd first started learning about thresholds from Harry—from her teacher and friend, from her guiding force, to the man who'd given the world back to her—he'd taken her to her house and let her feel the threshold for herself. It was all steel and passion, arguments and joy. She'd felt a lifetime of _living_ in that entrance, and Harry had smiled benevolently at her and hugged her tight.

Molly spent little time in her family's home these days though.

Lea came to her the first time Molly stood in front of Harry's old apartment. Molly would have expected the wreckage to at least be smoking faintly in the air, but the burnt-out shell was still and silent. They hadn't really cleared anything away besides the essentials. Molly's dad had already offered his help to Mrs. Spunkelcrief rebuild what she needed; insurance would pay for a the majority of the damage, but she would need someone with construction experience to make sure that the elderly woman wasn't paying more than she should.

Molly huddled in her light jacket, suddenly feeling frigid all over as she stared blankly at the disaster. There was some part of her mourning all the memories embedded into brick and concrete, everything from nights spent brewing potions in companionable silence with Harry to afternoons spent laughing at him while he attempted to give Mouse a bath. Most of her was just exhausted and in pain. The injuries she'd sustained in Chichen Itza were still healing and they were currently aching.

"I can give you something for that, child," Lea murmured in her ear.

Molly yelped, muscles protesting at sudden movement. She hadn't even noticed the fae opening the way from the Nevernever. Some wizard she was. "The Leanansidhe," Molly breathed, backing away. Lea wouldn't do anything to her. Probably. Her interest had been primarily in Harry, hadn't it been? She straightened her back, trying to figure out the best way to escape.

Lea's laugh was full-throated and as gorgeous as the woman who'd made it. "Oh, dear child. I'm not going to _eat_ you." Her mouth was crimson. Bloody crimson. "It would be such a waste of talent."

"What do you want?" Molly demanded, adrenaline pounding through her veins. "Harry's...Harry's gone." Guilt and pain ate at her, but she held her tongue the same way she'd held her tongue in front of her parents, in front of Karrin Murphy, in front of Thomas. Their tears and sadness hadn't broken her, and this wouldn't either.

Lea's lashes fluttered briefly. Her eyes were very, very bright, almost eerily so against her ivory face. Those cat-like pupils focused on Molly with all too much intensity, something dark glittering in those depths. "You know what I was to him, correct?"

Molly didn't want to get stuck in a questions-and-answers session with the second biggest hitter in the Winter Court, but Lea could bring her down in a heart-beat. "His godmother," Molly answered stiffly.

That crimson mouth widened. "Indeed," the Leanansidhe purred. "I was a teacher of sorts for him." Molly just barely caught the laugh of bitter laughter before it escaped her. Lea wasn't exactly the perfect example for a healthy guiding force. Lea caught the expression on her face, and that rich laugh left her throat again. It made the hair on the back of Molly's neck stand on end. "No one specified the sort of lessons I was meant to teach him, child." Her gaze sharpened. "I could do the same for you, though."

"What?" The words burst out of her before Molly could sensibly think things through. " _You_ teach _me_? Are you _crazy_?"

"For a given value of crazy, perhaps," Lea admitted with something like pride rather than taking offense at what Molly had said. "Come now. Your mentor is gone, but the obligation remains."

"Your obligation to...what? To help him?" Molly asked with something dangerously hopeful in her voice.

Lea nodded. "Of course. I do not ignore bargains and the terms of my agreement are not completed." Lea swayed closer to Molly then. She smelled like winter earth and poinsettias, the ones Molly's mother loved to have in the house during the winter season. "I will keep my promise, child. If not with you, then with someone else under Harry's care, if you prefer." She raised a red brow in challenge.

It was on the tip of Molly's tongue to protest that there were no others, but common sense stopped her. Harry might not have another apprentice, but there were certainly those who Harry had guided and helped that Lea could make the case for. People that Harry wouldn't want Lea anywhere near, if he could help it. The Leanansidhe—any of the fae—were dangerous, incredibly so.

Molly knew that was just an excuse, though. What Lea was offering—power, and lots of it. To finish Harry's apprenticeship on his behalf since he could no longer do so. To give her what she needed to stop what happened to Harry from happening to other people. Furthermore, if this was part of an already existing deal between Harry and Lea, Molly technically wasn't making a bargain of her own with the dangerous fae woman. Her pulse thundered in her throat. Impulsively, and before Molly could think the better of it, she swallowed down all the reasons why she _shouldn't_ be doing this and murmured, "Yes."

Lea's teeth flashed white beneath scarlet lips. "Wise. We begin now."

~*~

 _Proven—_

"Over here!" Molly called, smiling widely. She tried to keep it from looking too crazed and smoothed her hand self-consciously against her jeans and t-shirt. It was more normal than anything she'd worn in a long time and that in and of itself made her feel like she was standing out, for all she blended into the crowd

Carlos' face lit up when he finally caught sight of her. "Molly, there you are!" He jogged over, grinning down at her. She searched his face, but he stared at her guilelessly. "I was starting to think you'd decided to wander off without me."

Molly flushed. "No, of course not," she said. Then she winced at the blatant lie. Molly had considered it half a dozen times easily, and a few more times on the way to the park they were meeting at. In the end, however, she'd been unable to find a reasonable enough excuse—mostly, however, she'd come because her word was still binding. She knew the cost of broken promises. Besides, Carlos would actually be welcome aid. She'd needed some advice to deal with a particularly tricky exorcism, and Carlos had refused to give her the relevant information until she'd agreed to let him come with her. Molly probably could have asked Lea, but Lea regarded the Paranet as something vaguely irritating, not unlike a pesky gnat that refused to die, and Molly tried not to tread too often on the fae's goodwill. What there was of it, at any rate. Most of the time Lea generally seemed as inclined to kill her as aid her.

Carlos didn't call her out on the white lie, though. Instead, he laughed, looking completely at ease. Even Murphy and Harry's other allies watched her like she was going to bring the world down around her ears. Not that she didn't sometimes feel like doing it, shame devouring her even after Harry's brief return to the world of the living.

"Well, I made it here in one piece," Carlos murmured, watching Harry's former apprentice. She was looking better these days, less like she was falling to pieces and more like she was finally learning how to patch herself up. He couldn't imagine his own mentor dying, let alone in the manner by which Harry had been murdered. "I'm following your lead, Molly."

He meant it, too. Carlos trusted Molly to help the best way she knew how, to help the men and women that Harry had put his life on the line for time and again. Sometimes, Carlos suspected that the White Council forgot about the daily lives of people—of their pains and joys, their fears and success. It was the only explanation that Carlos could think of for the reason that the White Council had never bothered to reach out to the magical community before. As though having enough power was the only thing of worth.

They stared at one another for a long time, silent in a sea of people making their way to a thousand places for a hundred thousand reasons.

"Let's go help James," Molly whispered. "He'll be expecting us."

"Let's go change the world," Carlos breathed, "One life at a time."

~*~

 _Harry Dresden: He Died Doing the Right Thing_.

Molly stared at the tombstone's simple inscription, unadorned even by the birthdate and death date. The words had been engraved in top grade marble pale as the moon, the letters written in smooth, elegant swooping lines that were inhuman in their perfection. Harry had died doing the right thing—more like he'd lived doing the right thing even when it was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and then had died because he'd rather take from Mab, Queen of Air and Darkness what she was rightfully owed than risk she would turn him into something that was hers.

Many men would live by their morals.

Few would die for them.

They'd buried an empty casket, considering Harry's body had never been found, and knowing how things had ended with Harry, how he'd gone out, the plot of land seemed...empty. Tired. Still. Quiet. It wasn't a place of peace, or of contemplation. There was no way to remind herself of everything Harry had been in his life—cheerful and anguished and bitter and wise and charming and so goddamn _good_.

 _He died doing the right thing_.

Molly thought of stealing into Harry's mind, and wept.

This wasn't where Harry remained, where the vestiges of his spirit could be captured and pulled around her like a cloak. It was a cold cemetery, and nothing in the world could change that.

Carlos draped himself over Molly's shoulders, touching more easily these days. He'd situated himself into Molly's space before she'd even realized what was happening, and she couldn't seem to find it in herself to stop him from doing it. Carlos, having some strange sixth sense for that, took to invading Molly's personal space at every opportunity, bringing his warmth with him.

"The first time we ever met—that's actually met, since I sort of assume some of his more memorable council appearances don't count, even if they left me laughing for days—he'd commandeered Sue the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Best ride of my life." The words were soft, but tinged with humor. Even in those chaotic moments, seeing Harry astride Sue never failed to make Carlos grin because his life was sometimes and exercise in the ridiculous and he took his laughter where he could find it.

Carlos stared at the curve of Molly's mouth, which he could just see from the angle they were pressed together at. It twitched reluctantly, and Carlos felt the stirrings of hope. "I also happen to know that he'd take a bottle of Mac's finest over standing over a dead man's grave any day. Eat, drink and be merry, right?"

Molly turned into Carlos' grip, and hid her face against his shoulder for a long moment. Carlos clung to her in return, his carefully managed façade of cavalier good cheer cracking right down the middle. They huddled together, breaths mingling and fingers entwined. They shook, under the cloudy sky and sharp wind and there was no rain, but it rather felt as though there should be.

At the very least, it would have been nice to have something to disguise their tears.

Molly pulled away first, but it was reluctant. "Yeah," she agreed hiding her face. "Yeah, of course."

Carlos caught her jaw lightly, bringing her eyes up to meet his own. "If you'd rather stay, we can."

"No," Molly hastened to say, and then bit her lip. She closed her eyes, and Carlos rubbed his thumb lightly back and forth against her cheekbone. "No, it's not that, it's just...dammit, Carlos, it's not fair! It's not fucking fair—I should have done _something_ , _anything_ to keep him from just..." she wiped at her eyes. "Dammit," she whispered tiredly. "Life sucks."

Carlos couldn't help a grin, raw though it was. "It does. All the time," he assured her. "And if you think you've proven yourself finally,"

"It means you're just getting started," Molly finished for him.

Carlos' grin softened into something contemplative. "Exactly." The word ghosted between them.

Molly stared up at him, and this close she could see the scars and bruises and good humor and impatience and joy and fear. Carlos returned the gaze, and this close he could see the stress and pain and sweetness and passion and caution and wit.

They kissed.

It was soft, and warm, and everything good kisses should be, sinking right past bones and into the soul itself.

"So eat, drink and be merry, was it?" Molly finally questioned.

Carlos shrugged. "And keep going, day by day, doing the best we can. Proving ourselves."

Molly nodded. "Sounds like thirsty work. If I'm going to pick up Harry's slack though, I'm going to need a beer first."

"Mac's?"

"Mac's."


End file.
